That Which Redeems
by speaker4thesilent
Summary: My take on the endgame of Angel, Illyria and Fred, Gwen Raiden, Lorne, and much more. As the name suggests, it's all about the search for Redemption. On indefinate hiatus.
1. The End of all Things

That Which Redeems

Post NFA . . . and Pre ;)

I do not own Angel, Buffy, or any other character of the two series. They belong to Mutant Enemy and Joss Whedon. If I owned 'em both series would still be on. So please don't send me the paperwork for a lawsuit. Also any resemblance to any other show or fic is purely coincidental. As of the date of this writing I am unaware of any such conflict and will remove any my writings contain if notified! However the ideas and multiplicity of new characters do belong to me. So don't use 'em unless you ask!

Pairings: I'm not telling! It totally takes the surprise away!

Characters: Way too many to list. Plus I wouldn't tell anyway :P (insert above statement).

Summary: Takes up where Joss left off and continues until I get bored, run out of ideas, or receive more than fifty death threats. As an aside, this is the first fic I've ever written. Critiques are appreciated, but be nice. My self-esteem is fragile. ;)

Chapter One

The End of all Things

It is strange what can happen in the most desperate of circumstances. There was no way any of them should have survived the first push by such a massive force. None.

Illyria, knowing that she herself was by far the most powerful and durable of them took her position at the point of the spear.

This surprised the others. She was an Old One. Why should she defend these lesser creatures? Illyria's own Mind-Threads were unable to sort out the puzzle; how could any of them- half-breeds and a mortal –possibly understand. She knew only that Wesley would have done it if he were still alive.

The thought lashed her with grief, but she lashed it back, subordoning the human emotion to her will. Even as the sour taste of offal filled her senses. Even leashed her grief for her Guide refused to subside.

It seemed almost as if she had regained her control over time. Surely minutes had passed since she took her position, but the Demonic horde had barely moved at all.

She found it impossible to marshal the full power of her Mind-Threads to meet the task at hand. Many of them grieved for Wesley refusing her commands to rally. They dredged up every memory that even peripherally included him and shoved them forward. Others contemplated the soon-to-be death of the human Charles. These also filled her with sorrow. She did not realize she had felt for him so deeply.

_So be it_ she shrugged mentally.

And brought together what she could.

And waited.

XXXXX

Angel wasn't really impressed by Illyria's move to the front. _Probably just can't wait to start the killing! No thought of mutual defense or-_ he forced himself to cut off the useless line of thought as Spike moved to his side and Gunn took their backs.

_I should probably say something inspirational. . ._ Nothing came to mind. _Oh well, _he thinks _I don't suppose it'll matter anyway in a few minutes._

Strange how time seems to stop when the Apocalypse is staring you in the face. Hours seem to pass as he grips his weapon ever more tightly. He had expected to feel fear here at the end of his life. But all he could remember was her. Her smile. The smell of her favorite perfume. The sun glinting off her hair as she walked in the door. It seemed like an age of the Earth had passed since he had seen her. The thought of perhaps seeing her again someday if he ever escaped purgatory was enough to fill his heart with joy. A quote surfaced from an old book he'd once read and he spoke aloud.

"And for the Victorious Dead the great hall of Valhalla awaits. That great Champions who die heroic deaths may feast and drink within her walls forever." And another whispered so that not even Spike could hear.

"Now for Wrath, now for Ruin, and the World's ending!"

The Demonic wave struck.

XXXXX

A small part of Spike couldn't believe he was doing this. Why the bloody hell was he standing in an alley beside the Big Pouf waiting for thousands of very cranky demons to come kill him?

Because of her. His world colored with her smile, and bleached to gray when she frowned. The only sun he would ever feel again rose when she laughed and set when her laughter ceased. He had loved her before he had possessed his soul, and loved her even more now that he had it.

So he stood beside his grandsire and waited secure in the knowledge that she would have done the same.

As the wave came closer he lifted his eyes to the sky and smiled.

XXXXX

He was in horrible pain. His wounds were deep and many. As he stood there he could almost feel his life force seeping from his pores. _I suppose I should be scared. _He thinks, surprised that he isn't when he is so closely confronted by his own end. His enhanced brain is working overtime, filing away as much data as humanly possible. The Dragon, the giants, the wave of demons. But there was no fear. For himself or the others. They had thrown the dice, and if not won, at least forced a draw. The Black Thorn was gone. And they were soon to follow.

Gunn forced himself to stand straight through the pain. He hoped that his actions would merit forgiveness for what he'd done to Fred, though he didn't expect it.

What he did now he did for her and what she could have been. So he would go to his end like a hero.

Like a Champion.

Like Fred.

XXXXX

He raced over the rooftops of LA. He had discovered what was to happen by sheer accident. He had been away so long! And he reappears in this world only to learn that the Apocalypse was happening in his back yard! He would be damned if he was gonna let it succeed! _In my left hand I hold Winter! In my right I hold Death! All who seek to harm my world beware!_

XXXXX

Not exactly long I know, and with no real fight scenes, but I wanted to set up why all of the characters are at that battlefield at that moment, and why they're fighting as well as a glimpse of possible love interests. So please review! Thanks.


	2. Death and Dieing

I know kinda cheesy, but I'm sarcastic and cheesy myself. If too many people object I suppose I'll change it.

See first chapter for copyright statement and all that.

So please enjoy!

And review!

Please?

Chapter 2

Death and Dying

Or

The Mysterious Combatant

The Wave struck.

Illyria, in front of her companions, was the first to strike back. The first Demon, a rather stupid one with a sword seemed to think that he alone was a match for the once God-King. He was a fool. Illyria took his sword away from him and eviscerated him with it.

And the next.

And the next.

And with each kill Illyria's grief grew.

_Wesley should be beside her!_ Many of her Mind-Threads insisted. _He should be here with his allies striking demon after demon to the ground! These worms should bow in fear before him! _

Another demon falls dead, a hand span of her sword through its organs. For a moment she looks down at its broken, already decaying corpse._ He is dead and he should not be. And I can do nothing. _She did not even see the demon before her. No amount of death could assuage her grief.

But she continued killing.

_It's what Wesley would have done._

Gunn was the first to fall. His wounds degraded his effectiveness too deeply. His strikes were weak and ineffectual. Still he fought as a warrior to the last and the corpses of over a dozen of his opponents were piled at his feet before his life was spilled out by a demon's blade.

Illyria heard his death cry and turned. The triumphant demon's roar suddenly became a hoarse gurgle as Illyria's sword appeared buried to the hilt in its throat.

Illyria was again weaponless. _I have never needed weapons before, why now? _Came the thought as she scanned for the Dragon while ripping a demon's head from its shoulders. She could neither see nor sense it. This worried her. It was, perhaps, up to something sneaky.

She gave a mental shrug, unable to do anything about it and returned to killing demons.

XXXXX

_A dragon? Impressive! _The thought was almost totally ignored as the figure looks at the flying creature.

_Looks like I found the battlefield._ Was also ignored as irrelevant, but _That thing'll tear apart any mortal who tries to fight it! _was given special attention.

He considers several approaches and almost immediately decides to rely on simple brute force. His left hand suddenly extends into foot long skeletal digits that curl around a ball of blue- the physical manifestation of a spell –held suspended inside as the right hand closes on formerly empty air just as a crystalline staff manifests. The spells aren't especially difficult, but the timing must be exact, and the dragon must be relatively still . . .

_There! _The response is lightning quick. A bar of sapphire light shoots from the top of the staff and strikes the dragon's left wing, which is coated instantly in a half-foot of ice.

The dragon begins to fall immediately as its ice covered wing refuses to bend. If the spell had been crafted by one less able than he, no doubt the dragon would have noticed the second bar of sapphire light striking the ground beneath it before its attention shifted to freeing its wing of the icy imprisonment. After all a hundred yard drop onto dirt wouldn't give it so much as a bruise.

Of course a hundred yard drop onto thirty foot tall ice spears was a different matter altogether.

The dragon had just enough time to realize how monumentally it had screwed the pooch before one of the spears penetrated its flame bladder and it was consumed, along with four or five dozen demons, by its own fires. Which also, by pure coincidence, obliterated the evidence of how it was killed.

With the greater threat dealt with, the unknown sorcerer was able to shift his attention to a lesser, but still serious threat to those battling in the alley.

Several giants were marching in the demonic horde, and the stranger was certain that there would be little any of the alley's defenders would be able to hold them off for long once they arrived.

He considered the problem, and was on the verge of deciding on the bigger hammer approach yet again when he was struck by a sudden inspiration and blinked.

_Those are your standard giants. Tall, strong, unbelievably sturdy, and very _very _stupid. _He smiled. Nobody with half a brain let giants march with anything other than giants when any half-capable wizard was within effective range. _This is just _too _classic. _He thinks as he quickly formulates the spell. This one is much simpler than the previous one, all it takes is a wave of his left hand and a slight shift in his staff's position for a wall of ice three feet thick and thigh high on a giant to appear in front of the fist giants newly upraised foot.

As expected the giant trips and falls flat on his face, shattering the ice wall and incidentally smashing a couple dozen of the tightly packed demons unfortunate enough to be directly in front of it.

The stranger smiles and hurls a carefully aimed ice lance into the unfortunate giant's upper spine before looking for a new target.

XXXXX

Angel wasn't sure what killed Spike. One second he was a force of elemental destruction at Angel's side, and the next he was dust in the night wind. Suddenly Illyria was by his side taking over the space that Spike had just vacated. Angel felt a sudden flush of rage.

Why was this demon that had killed one of his most cherished human friends alive? Gunn was so much better than the Old One, hell Spike was a better person! Yet they were dead, and this usurper was not.

But she fought at his side and he could not deny that he needed it.

The only reason that he was still alive was the blood that he had drained from Hamilton, and even so Angel had a shallow cut across his throat from a sword that had come perilously close to removing his head and a stab wound in his side from a stake which would have pierced his heart save for the enhanced reflexes that he could feel even now fading away.

A small part of him wondered how long he'd last.

He hoped it would be long enough.

XXXXX

Illyria realized that it was almost dawn. The tide of demons had slowed at times during the night, but it had never stopped. The dragon and the giants were gone. One of her Mind-Threads suggested that they had been nothing more than an illusion. It certainly seemed possible.

But what really surprised Illyria was that Angel was still alive. The blood from Hamilton must have been more powerful than she'd thought, but he could not last much longer. The dawn would kill him as surely as a stake through the heart, but there were no doors along the lower floors of the buildings.

She fought on as she considered how to preserve him. It took approximately 7.3 seconds longer than it should have for her scattered, grief stricken Mind-Threads to find an answer.

She turned to Angel after forcing back the surrounding demons by the simple expedient of throwing two of them as hard as she could into the front ranks.

"Give me your hand." Demanded Illyria imperiously.

"What?" Angel yelled over his shoulder, confused by the seemingly random demand. "In case you didn't noti-" He began, but was cut off as Illyria grabbed him roughly by an arm and his pants and threw him bodily up onto a fire escape.

"Go now before sunrise!" Illyria yelled as she returned to fighting the demons which were wearing even her down.

Angel turned and ran up the steps towards the top of the building.

He almost made it.

On the last section of steps a trio of crossbow bolts struck him from somewhere back in the mob of demons. And at least one of them found his heart. He crumbled to dust before Illyria's eyes.

Alone. She was alone. Even when Wesley died she had not felt like this. The others had been waiting at the alley for her. Their fight would continue. Now they were gone. There was nothing left.

Dimly she realized someone was screaming. Slowly she realized it was her voice reflected through the shell. It was not a scream of rage or anger even frustration.

These things she understood.

These emotions she could handle.

It was instead a scream of grief, denial, and horror.

And for the first time since Illyria's resurrection, she ceased to fight the shell.

XXXXX

This series of events had been most inconvenient. The Los Angeles branch of their earthly domain was reduced to rubble and the Circle of the Black Thorn was dead. This was most annoying, but it had been planned for. No matter what happened nothing was going to thwart the Apocalypse that they had been planning all of these long millennia.

So the pre-planned response was activated. An army of demons with several giants and a juvenile dragon. Enough to slowly wear away Illyria's resistance in her weakened state. She was, after all, the only threat to their supremacy.

This however is where things began to go wrong.

An unknown sorcerer killed the dragon and the giants before slashing his way into the rear of their formation. Annoying but not outside their contingency planning. Several humans finding the army. Again not a problem. Humans were easily killed.

Illyria stopped fighting her shell.

This was unfortunate.

But the Senior Partners were careful. They had planned for even this. Three contingency plans were activated.

Their result was . . . unanticipated.

XXXXX

Illyria felt as if she were being torn apart. All of the human emotions that she had felt reflected through the shell had been horrible. They had been like rough cloth on abraded skin. She had thought the suffering horrible.

These new sensations were more akin to wearing a skintight suit made of live pirannahs.

Illyria felt Mind-Thread after Mind-Thread shut down from simple disbelief and flashes of pain as nuroganglia burned out from massive sensory overload. She experienced a moment of sheer, howling, mind-numbing terror unlike anything she had ever felt before.

She was going to die she knew she was! Itsonlyamatteroftim-

No! She was Illyria! God-King of the Primordium! The Essence of Rule! She. Would. Not. Be. Overcome!

With agonizing sloth she forced the emotions back, until once again she was in control of herself.

But they did not retreat nearly so far as they had bare- was it only minutes? –earlier.

Illyria suddenly wondered why the remainder of the army of demons hadn't killed her yet and her eyes flew open in suddenly renewed fear.

And she froze in stunned surprise. What sat less than a yard away was not possible.

It couldn't be possible!

But it was.

XXXXX

So, can you figure out what has Illyria running scared? And who is the Mysterious Wizard? Tune in to the next chapter to find out!

P.S. please don't kill me 

On a more serious note thanks to MaskedScissorDoll and Imzadi for the reviews!

Just to clarify the first chapter began like 3 seconds after the end of NFA.

Imzadi wanted to know if Kate would be making an appearance. My response: Get out of my head! Mind reading is not allowed! Bad telepath!


	3. The Lost Ones

Chapter 3

The Lost Ones

The Laws of Physics are such that when two objects seek to occupy the same space at the same time Bad Things happen. The standard response to such an interpenetration is for both objects to go acoherent. Violently. The Laws of Physics were just beginning an act that would have vaporized everything west of the Rockies when they received a command. It had been several thousand rotations ago that the last command had been given, but they knew the source. They would obey.

So instead of their standard reaction, the laws undertook a hereforto unknown series of low order probability reactions, fusing, multiplying, and separating in such a manner that, at the end, one equaled two.

XXXXX

Fred was all alone.

It had been a long time since anything had happened here in her darkened universe. For such a long time she had hoped for rescue. But hope had faded as time passed. She sank into despair then.

They didn't care. They weren't coming for her after all.

But then He came, and the despair melted away. He was easy to talk to. She could tell Him everything. Her fears, her loves, her ambitions and desires.

He was a good listener. Most people would have interrupted her or grown bored, but He didn't.

She supposed that it was quite possible that she was mad.

But she didn't care. When He was around such things seemed unimportant. She asked questions and He answered them, but He never volunteered information.

Somehow it never occurred to her to ask who He was, or why He was here where none of her friends had found her.

She knew instinctively that He was her friend.

That was all that mattered to her.

But one- day? Year? _How does time pass here anyway?_ –He breaks His usual pattern of behavior. As she stops for a breath she doesn't need, not here at least, He speaks.

"You must leave soon." He says to her in a quiet compassionate voice.

Her immediate reaction is denial, "No! I want to stay here with you!"

He smiles at her sadly. "It was not yet your time when your existence in the physical world ceased. Now it is time for you to return." Seeing her heartbreak He gently poses a question. "If your friends died because you were not there to help them how would you feel?"

Understanding comes quickly, "Wesley's in danger?"

He nodded, "All of those you care for are."

Sadness fills her. She must leave, but she doesn't want to! She wants to stay!

He seems to know what she searches for the words to say.

"You can come back here." He assures her, "though it will not be soon."

"I'll go," she replies in a small voice.

He smiles at her, and she feels comforted.

"Will I remember?" she asks Him.

"For a time you must forget." He says, then raises a hand and continues before she can shout the rejection on the tip of her tongue. "It is as it must be, but fear not. You will remember when it is needful that you do so. But now you must wake. The dawn comes and now the dream must be dispelled." He places his first two fingers on her forehead. "Goodbye for now young one."

XXXXX

She awoke and was surrounded immediately by absolute terror.

Her own voice seemed to shout for her attention from thousands of directions at once. Reverberating back and forth within her own skull.

And her senses! She could smell everything within miles! But she could draw no information from it! The ground she sat on was agony to her sense of touch. Her neurons reported in such detail that it was actively painful to feel it. And her sight! She could have tracked individual bacteria in the air if she hadn't been too terrified to realize what she saw. She could hear the heartbeat of everyone in the city and the beat of every insect's wings.

But she had no control, she could not stop hearing, seeing, thinking, feeling, and smelling in this enhanced mode.

She was bare moments from insanity.

XXXXX

Illyria recovered quickly from the shock of seeing a reflection of herself sitting less than five feet away.

She also realized what must be happening to the shel- Fred. For it was beyond doubt that she was no longer just Illyria's new body. Illyria herself hadn't gotten all of her abilities at the same time and at what was probably full power. The former God-king didn't question how she knew what was happening, but she could have described- in detail –everything that Fred was feeling.

And because of that, Illyria knew that Fred was bare moments away from losing control of her new powers and destroying everything in a five hundred mile radius.

Illyria did the only thing that she could. She mentally projected her consciousness into Fred's mind.

It took only a bare moment for Illyria to limit Fred's new abilities. She restricted her sight to only slightly better than a vampire's, and then she did the same with her hearing and touch. Her sense of smell she restricted to nearly that of a normal human. Then Illyria shut off all but fifteen of Fred's Mind-Threads and withdrew.

She just hoped that she hadn't broken Fred's mind in the doing.

XXXXX

Fred had actually been calmed by the controlling power which had just left. She expected the terror to come back, but her senses were her own again. Well almost. Her eyesight, hearing, everything was enhanced. She suddenly realized that her mind was functioning . . . strangely.

"They're Mind-Threads," a voice spoke from just to the right of her. She turned towards the speaker, overbalanced, and almost fell, but a hand caught her before she hit the ground. "Your reflexes and speed are equal to mine, I see." The voice spoke again, and this time she was able to see the speaker's face. It was her face, albeit with blue eyes and blue highlights in her hair, which looked back at her.

XXXXX

_That went better than expected. _Illyria thought as Fred literally jumped three feet into the air and her armor shifted from a leather catsuit to plate mail to a sundress and back to the catsuit before she landed.

The next question was anticipated. "Who are you?"

"I am Illyria," the Old One replied.

A sudden light came on behind Fred's eyes. She seemed to struggle with what to say, perhaps even what she should say. Finally she settled for, "Why did you help me?"

This time it was Illyria who stopped in surprise. She had not even considered the question, and she said so, then added, "I do not see any advantage for me in it, I just felt that I should." She shrugged.

Fred looked away from Illyria and for the second time in five minutes jumped back startled. Illyria could understand. The area around them looked like ground zero of a kiloton range nuclear weapon.

"What happened?" Fred asked, dismayed.

"I am uncertain," Illyria replies as she views the devastation. "Though I think it was excess energy released when your new body was constructed."

"Constructed . . ." Fred's voice trails off as she looks down at herself, and appears to see for the first time the leather armor, identical to Illyria's, that she wears.

A thought seems to strike her suddenly, "Oh God! Wes? Where is he? Is-" she breaks off suddenly as she sees Illyria's stricken look. "God no! Angel? Spike? Gunn?"

"Lorne may live, but none of the others do" Illyria answers so softly that even with her enhanced hearing Fred can barely understand her words.

"No." Fred says quietly, as though her words can change what was. Then. "NO!" she yells at the top of her lungs. "This shouldn't be!" and it is Illyria's turn to feel surprise. Her inner sense of time has stopped and begun reversing.

XXXXX

Time flowed backwards for almost a full twenty-four hours before the power Fred unknowingly called spent itself. It occurred so quickly Fred wasn't sure what was happening, though a part of her, _One of the new Illyria-parts?_ insisted that something serious was going on.

After the gut tearing surge of temporal displacement passed Fred looked about her and saw only the alley near the Hyperion bathed in predawn light, and Illyria, looking at her, absolutely stunned.

"What happened" Fred asked in a weak, shaky voice.

"You-" Illyria stopped and swallowed. "You just reversed time by almost a full day" she said, wonder apparent in her voice. "At the height of my power I could have managed half of that."

Fred's eyes shot open wide. Her few functioning Mind-Threads had already reached the obvious conclusion. "Then we have a chance to save them?" she asked. But Illyria was already shaking her head.

"I must return with all speed to the domain of the Wolf, the Ram, and the Hart. If I do anything differently, the future could change for the worse more than we could correct it and make it better. Perhaps the Senior Partners will not notice you if I am easily found, but if the cannot find me they will surely search and in the process find both of us. No, only you have any freedom of movement. Otherwise we lose the element of surprise."

Fred felt suddenly terrified. She wasn't a fighter! She was a scientist who happened to occasionally fire a crossbow!

But Illyria had already guessed the direction in which Fred's new Mind-Threads were moving. "You have but to look within yourself. If I have your memories then surely you have mine! Your manipulation of time confirms that you have my powers. You can do this, and if you wish Wesley to survive, you must."

XXXXX

Fred was frightened. She didn't know what to do. After a few moments, she forced her new Mind-Threads to do her will.

They took approximately 32.56 seconds to compile a list of persons capable of rendering assistance. Regretably, it was not a long list.

_Well,_ Fred thought, _Waiting isn't gonna make it any easier. First, Faith._

XXXXX

So wadda ya think? Surprised? Sorry it took so long, but the characters weren't speaking to me and I've had school and work. And that's it. I'm goin back to bed. As always, review! Please?


	4. Recruiting an Army

I considered having Fred and Illyria get into it last chapter, but that didn't really fit the plan so there was no Old One fighting Old One sorry. There will, however, be fighting in this chapter. I promise.

If you're reading this then you've probably already seen the chapter's title.

Don't you hate me:)

Sorry this update took so long, the plot fairies were forcing me to write Stargate fics.

Chapter 4

Recruiting an Army

_Well,_ Fred thought, _Waiting isn't gonna make it any easier. First, Faith._

The only problem being that Fred has no idea where Faith is. "Come on, think!" She says aloud. _Where? Where? Where? She'll be the most useful. She has allies, but where is she? _She slams her fist against the wall beside her and jumps at the explosive crunching sound produced. _Damn it where could Faith be? _

Suddenly Fred feels like she's been punched in the stomach. All the air seems to go out of the lungs she no longer has. When her vision clears she sees something totally unexpected.

In front of her is the shimmering distortion of an open portal.

Suddenly struck by the humor and irony of the situation she says, "I wonder where _this _leads?"

And steps through.

And out into a backyard.

A backyard full of startled Slayers.

_What fun._

XXXXX

"I still think that we should go help him!" Faith says, leaning across the table towards the woman on the far side.

"And I still say it's a ploy! He's working for the enemy!" Buffy says hotly, accentuating her words by stabbing her finger at the tabletop.

Willow leans back in her chair at the foot of the table and frowns. _Well they've only been at it for twenty minutes so far, so that means we have . . . thirty-two minutes to go if they stick to the averages. _Her sigh goes unnoticed by the others. _I wish they'd just decide already and get it over with._ she thinks as she gets up from her chair by the window and walks toward the balcony overlooking the streets of London, more tempted than either of the others will ever know to turn both of them into something icky for a couple of days as an object lesson. _I jus- _

XXXXX

Faith was in mid argument when it happened.

She had just opened her mouth to continue the "discussion" when the window behind the seat Willow had just vacated burst inwards. Faith immediately launched herself into a backwards roll and came up to face- "Oh shit!" She said as she ran over and knelt beside the young woman on the ground. She immediately feels for a pulse . . . there! Strong and steady. Just as she's about to open her mouth Buffy interjects.

"What the hell were they doing out there? More importantly, how'd they do it? We're on the third floor!"

"Let's find out. They had better hope there are three of four demons out there that they can blame. Otherwise I am _so_ gonna kick their asses for this"

XXXXX

Fred found that she was actually enjoying the challenge of taking on twenty-eight slayers at once. Though she did feel kinda bad for the first one that had come within range. She wasn't able to control how strong she was yet and flying through that window had to have hurt. One of her Mind-Threads wondered if this was the way slayers usually greeted visitors. She sorta doubted it, but then even slayers have to get edgy when someone steps out of a hole in the air. _Oh well, _she thinks, _I'll just ask them where Faith is after I'm done . . . pacifying them. _A blow comes in aimed at her head, and she avoids it almost contemptuously before striking three rapid-fire blows to the young slayer's head. As her eyes cross and she falls over backwards another of Fred's Mind-Threads wonders if maybe she shouldn't switch from catsuit to more casual dress before she uses another portal. _Great _now _I tell me._

XXXXX

Faith passes Buffy on the stairs by the simple expedient of jumping from the third floor landing to the first floor.

She hit the ground running and got to the door leading to the backyard right as Buffy hit the ground behind her. She jerked the door open and froze in surprise. Twenty-six slayers were on the ground in varying states of consciousness and the only slayer still on her feet was in the process of being knocked off of them.

The . . . _thing _they had been fighting had just given her a palm strike to the face and was in the process of picking her up when Buffy yelled from behind Faith, "Alright, you can stop picking on them. You are so about to have bigger problems." The figure turned and Faith stopped in stunned surprise.

"Fred?"

XXXXX

"Oh hi Faith." Fred says with a smile. She turn her head back to the slayer in her hand and, with a shrug, drops her. "How've ya been?"

"Fred you just beat the shit out of like thirty slayers!" Faith said with total disbelief. The Fred she had known wouldn't have even known where to start on such a proposition.

"They started it!" Fred pointed out feeling put upon.

"Not questioning that one" Faith said. Apparently if Fred had meant to kill them she could have done so with disturbing ease. "But the last time that I saw you, you couldn't have even lifted one of the girls much less thrown her through a third story window!"

"So," Buffy interjected, abruptly ending Faith's tirade. "I take it that this means I don't get to beat the holy hell out of a demon then?"

Before Faith could put together a coherent response, Willow, who had followed the slayers at a somewhat more sedate pace stepped out of the house.

And abruptly wigged.

Because Willow didn't see Winifred Burkle, She saw an Old One. The waves of power coming off of her were so intense that the very air around her seemed to burn with it.

Fred noticed the change instantly. It took Willow's hair .00027 seconds to change from red to white and another 1.068 seconds for the lightning bolt to form in the air. Fred's Mind-Threads immediately began to submit ideas on how to respond.

One suggested slowing time enough to step aside, and then quickly strangling the insignificant worm who dared try to harm her. The violence kinda bothered her, but the first part would be fun. Another suggested simply shifting her body out of phase with the matter of this physical reality so that the bolt of electrical current would pass straight through her. This voice was also very opinionated about how the witch should be punished for her attempt to harm the God-King's personage. Fred, however, settled for a much less . . . magical alternative. Seeming almost casual in her movement, she leaned over backwards Matrix style and allowed the lightning bolt to pass over top of her with a fluidity that would have made Neo jealous.

Even before Fred managed to right herself, Willow was beginning her apology, "Oh God, Fred, I'm so sorry I saw your aura and I thought tha-" Willow cut off suddenly with a concerned look at Fred.

Fred had smoke pouring out of her ears, almost literally. She was quite obviously pissed. Her hazel eyes were smoldering in rage and there were very faint hazel colored lines on her forehead. She presented so menacing a picture that Buffy and Faith both took a step back in unaccustomed nervousness. Fred quickly closed her eyes and forced down the part of her that desired to tear the redheaded witch limb from limb. This process took approximately 7.982 seconds and left Fred almost shaking from the effort.

Willow, not truly realizing how close she had just come to an unpleasant death, stepped closer to the group, ignoring the palpable aura of menace surrounding Fred. Fred's response is to step quickly away from her, struggling to re-find her center in the wake of the very Illyria-like thoughts and impulses that had almost condemned a powerful ally and friend of her friends to a particularly gruesome death. "I'm sorry for the mess," she says, trying to get back on track, "but they weren't in the mood to talk, and I really need to get finished here and move on," she continues trying to decide what to say to the Slayers to secure their help without convincing them that she's totally loopy. After a momentary pause she decides on the complete truth, at least as much as she can tell quickly.

"I'll give y'all as much information as I can, but I've got to move on quickly. To make a long story short, Angel is gonna take down this super-evil called the Circle of the Black Thorn tonight. They are the Senior Partner's most powerful minions on this planet. He'll succeed in his objectives, but-"

"Wait a minute! How do you know what he'll be able to do? It hasn't happened yet!" Buffy asks accusingly.

Fred frowns quellingly at the intrepid blond Slayer before backtracking a bit. "I was there when it happened."

"Happened? As in past tense happened?" Faith asks, confused.

"I'm getting there!" Fred shouts, losing her somewhat shortened patience. "For me, this has already happened. I was there in a manner of speaking." There were confused looks exchanged by the three friends. Fred's nostrils flare in annoyance. She is not going to get through with half-truths. "Illyria was there. I was her shell and a part of her subconscious. We got . . . divided somehow. We're each a part of the other while being ourselves . . . its . . . weird. We were the only ones that survived. I turned time backwards. Here we are," She said with a note of finality.

The other three were staring at her openmouthed. Willow was the first one to speak "Illyria? Was she a demon? Cuz that would really explain the aura you've got,"

Fred nodded, "She is an Old One," At this announcement Willow's jaw very nearly bounced off the ground. Before anyone could ask any questions, Fred continued. "If you decide to help me you will have only twelve hours to make your way to Los Angeles," She looked at them to make sure they understood when Buffy interrupted.

"And how do we know that you're telling the truth?" she asked accusingly. "For all we know you're evil and you're lying to us to get us to L.A. so that this big bad can kill us all!" Fred's eyes grew cold at the Slayer's accusations, but it was Willow who answered them.

"Buffy! I was trying to explain earlier, what with the rambling," she says. "Her aura is like a gray fog, she's neither inherently bad or good, just like any other person on the planet, she has both good and bad sides, but she isn't inherently evil like demons are."

"Okay so she's not evil, but how do we know that she's telling the truth about the fight" Buffy responds sharply.

This time Fred does answer. "Call the L.A. branch of Wolfram and Hart and ask to talk to Spike," again the other the women are shocked into silence. "If you do, do not mention my name, and do not give your own. Now you must make your own decision. I assume the witch can open a portal to L.A. at need?" she pauses, and Willow nods her head. "Very well then. I must move on."

Faith shocked by the abruptness of the statement, and everything else that she's heard in the past few minutes finally manages to speak. "Wait, Fred! Take me with you!" At Fred's look she adds, "I assume there will be people you don't know whose help you'll need? Well, I may not be the best character reference, but I know a lot of more of our clique than you do."

Fred takes 1.375 seconds to consider the offer before deciding that Faith is quite correct. Having a familiar face there when she steps through the portal will most likely help matters immensely. "Very well," she says before concentrating on her image. The Slayers and the witch blink in surprise as the leather catsuit changes into a very pretty, flowery sundress. "Let's go." Fred says calmly before opening a portal and drawing Faith through.

XXXXX

Sorry this chapter took so damned long. My muse was on vacation, and I can't work without her, but she's back now! Hopefully I'll get another chapter next week, but with 15 credit hours at school and a full time job there are no guarantees.

Also before you say anything I know Fred is out of character. This is because she is no longer Fred, but she isn't Illyria either. She is a totally different person.


End file.
